Cuff Me (Mystrade)
by Bentin Freebatch
Summary: Gregory Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes finally meet. There appears to be an instant yet mysterious chemistry...
1. Chapter 1 – Silver Fox meets the Ice Man

Chapter 1 – Silver Fox meets the Ice Man

It was 6 PM when Greg Lestrade made his way back into his office to finish up the report of that night's case. Sherlock Holmes once again had saved the police by solving the case, deducing his way through the crime scene. It was clear who had done it, and the suspect was taken into custody.

Greg sat down in his leather office chair, rocking the back of it back and forth as it squeaked. He hated to fill out the reports. It meant he had to compile all of the reports of the other agents, and then had to add his own in full detail. Sherlock Holmes always deduced so fast, it was impossible for Greg to keep up with him. Nonetheless, he had to write down Sherlock's exact train of thoughts to maximise their chances of locking the suspect away for a good share of years.

He stopped rocking his chair as his phone vibrated and lit up. He retrieved it from his pocket and read the text.

[Suspect has confessed.]

Three words that made his night. He smiled and put his phone away. The faster he finished the report, the sooner he could go home.

He worked on it for an hour, until suddenly the knocking on his hardwood door echoed in his office. He checked the time. 7.30 PM. Who would visit at this time? The building must have been closed down a little while ago. Suspicious of the situation, Greg slid his hand to the gun on his belt. Another knock filled the silence of the moment.

"Come in," Greg finally said, awaiting his visitor. The door opened slowly but without hesitance. In the darkness of the hallway, he could not make out the face of the person in the doorway. "Step into the light."

And so the person did. A man, suited up and looking well-cared of, a poker face, yet showing enough emotion to let everyone from a 100 metre distance know he was not amused, took his presence in the room. He placed his black umbrella against the wall next to the door, and hung his coat up. Without a word, he came to sit on the chair at the other side of Greg's desk. Greg did not recognise the man and so he never took his hand of the gun.

"Mycroft Holmes," said the man finally, his voice low and steady. He had seen that the detective inspector kept his hand near his hip and understood that he came across as a threat. "Sherlock Holmes's older brother," he therefore added. Greg let go of the gun.

"Sherlock has a brother?"

To Mycroft, this was not a very clever question, and so he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"God, yes. I just introduced myself, didn't I?"

"You two are alike when it comes to attitude," mumbled Greg, closing the most recent file and moving it to the side. He could see Mycroft's eyes following it. "Why are you here?"

Mycroft looked up at him.

"For _that_ exactly. The file. You must… do away with the case."

Greg's eyes widened and he put the file in his drawers instead, locking it and putting the key in the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Are you here to bribe me? A detective inspector of Scotland Yard?!" He shook his head, quite angrily. "You better leave now and I will not charge you!"

Mycroft chuckled and kept his composure.

"I am from the government. Look me up in your system." He leaned forward and placed his card on the desk. Greg took it and inspected it closely, and then he ran the number through the database. He saw Mycroft's profile come up and looked from the picture to Mycroft, and once more. Then he closed the page and slid the card back.

"Fine, I believe you. Now why would I do away with the file? Who gave you such orders?"

"A higher power," answered Mycroft as he returned his card into his wallet. "I have a letter, too." He handed Greg the letter. "I only came here to bring you the announcement. Do away with the file."

Greg held up his phone.

"The suspect confessed."

Mycroft nodded and stood up.

"The Secret Service will take care of him, do not worry. All you have to do is destroy the file. You have 24 hours."

Greg opened the letter. Everything was right: the font, the layout, the logo, the format, and the signature.

"And what if I don't make it in 24 hours?"

Mycroft walked to the window, noting that the rain still hadn't stopped. He turned around and smirked slightly.

"The Secret Service would be very delighted with your cooperation, detective inspector Gregory Lestrade."

Greg gave him a nod: it was clear enough now. He really did not have a choice. Mycroft started to make his way to his coat, but then walked back to Greg, holding out his hand.

"Why did Sherlock not mention he had a brother?"

"The letter, please," requested Mycroft, ignoring the question.

"Answer, please," responded Greg, raising his brow. Mycroft sighed.

"We have a rather complex relationship. John knows about me. One person is more than enough."

Greg gave the man the letter and stood up as well.

"I'll help you out," he said and walked to the door. Mycroft put the letter away in his jacket and put on his coat.

"It was certainly my pleasure to meet you, D.I. Lestrade," he said, picking up his umbrella and unfolding it just outside the office.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, too," said Greg, but more out of formality than out of sincerity. Mycroft knew this and smiled.

"I can see why they call you Silver Fox."

Before Greg could recover from being stunned and say something, Mycroft had already turned around, leaving in a firm pace. He did not look around, but he knew he would be back.

Greg shook his head and closed the door of his office. He opened up the drawer and picked up the file. As he glanced out of the window once more, he let the shredder take care of the case. At least he didn't have to write a report…


	2. Chapter 2 – The Return of the Ice Man

Chapter 2 – The Return of the Ice Man

It had been nearly a week since Greg's strange encounter with Sherlock's brother. In the beginning, he had been thinking about it nonstop, trying to figure out what he meant with his last comment.

_"I can see why they call you Silver Fox."_

But he had no clue. And as the days passed, so did his interest. He was way too busy to keep thinking about someone who had left again, and Greg did not expect him back. After all, it was a man from the government. Why would he return to Scotland Yard for silly little police cases?

Greg looked down at his work. _Homeless man stabbed stray cat_. What a case. Greg looked over the profile of the man and saw he was unknown to the police. No criminal record, no warnings… _Charges dropped_, is what Greg wrote to conclude the case. In the end, the cat was a stray. It would cost too much money and effort to go after this guy. _Give suspect a warning_.

The floor in front of his door creaked. Greg knew this because he had been in this office for many years, and the floor in front of his office had been in this poor – although sometimes convenient – condition ever since he had moved into his position as a detective inspector here. He decided to wait for a knock on the door, but there was none.

"Are you going to come in?" he called out, knowing for sure that the person was still standing there. Another creak, one of hesitance, and then the door handle was pushed down. The door opened and…

"Good afternoon, detective inspector Lestrade," said the older Holmes brother. "I hope my timing is not inconvenient for you."

"And what if it is? You're a Holmes, if inconvenient, you'd come in anyways," replied Greg and motioned Mycroft to sit. "And it's Greg, by the way. Your brother calls me Greg. Well, he doesn't really know my… Never mind, please sit."

Mycroft smiled and gladly sat on the chair in front of Greg's desk.

"Can I first and foremost establish that I am _not_ my brother? I am nothing like him, and I do not desire to be anything like him."

"You're more like him than you think." Greg stood up. "Coffee?"

"Tea would be nice."

Greg nodded and left to the hallway, where he collected one tea and one coffee. Mycroft had been looking around from his chair, but noticed nothing personal. Nothing that pointed towards hobbies, interests, or a partn-… Wait, why would he care about that?

"Any reason why you are shaking your head?" asked Greg as he walked in. Mycroft jumped a little and looked at the man as he was served his tea.

"No reason at all," he said quickly. "Thank you."

Greg sat back down and Mycroft picked up his cup.

"No problem. Why are you here? Do I need to get rid of another file?"

Mycroft took a sip and then cleared his throat.

"No, not really…" he said, to which Greg raised a brow.

"Well, that's a little vague. 'Not really'? Then why are you here? Don't you have work to do for the government?"

Mycroft sniffed but then smiled.

"I have taken the afternoon off, actually."

"Really?" asked Greg, slightly mockingly. "To do what? Spend the afternoon with me?"

Mycroft's smile disappeared and he didn't answer Greg's question, but Greg quickly understood what he meant. An awkward silence filled the room as the two men both took a sip from their beverages to avoid having to talk. Finally, Mycroft found that it was his obligation to explain himself.

"You see, I've… noticed you."

Greg frowned.

"Noticed me? Noticed me how? We work far apart."

"I mean, my brother has mentioned you once or twice. 'Lestrade', he calls you. He's always unsure about your first name. In any case, when my brother mentions another human being besides his best friend John, the person must mean something to him. So I looked you up, and I found you to be…" Mycroft stopped. He had wanted to continue, but somehow nerves had blocked his ability to do so.

"Could you get to the point? You found me in the database, and then what?" Greg wasn't impatient, or maybe he was, but all he really wanted, was to know why Mycroft had showed interest in him, and in what way.

"And I thought you were rather attractive." Mycroft took another sip of his tea. It was rather hot, because Greg hadn't offered milk.

"Attractive?" Greg leaned back in his chair and looked the Holmes brother over. "Look, I'm not sure how to explain, but… I have an ex-wife."

"I know that, I saw it in your file."

"Right… So I'm not really gay. With all respect, of course."

"How do you know you aren't gay?"

Greg had just taken a sip of coffee and slightly choked on it.

"How do I… How do I know? Well, I have an ex-wife, and…"

"And what?" Mycroft raised his brow. "Maybe there is a reason she is your ex-wife."

"Of course there is a reason. Are you implying that my marriage failed because I might be gay?"

"No, but I am implying that you are in no straight relationship right now, and therefore could give a gay relationship a chance… Or at least a date with a man."

It was silent once again, for a moment. Greg only spoke up when Mycroft was about to speak.

"Are you asking me out?"

Mycroft curled his lower lip in doubt and looked at the window.

"I think that I am asking you out, yes."

Greg nodded understandingly and looked at the steam that arose from his coffee. A date with a man? But I'm not gay. Then again, he is right about my failed marriage… Maybe I am… no. I certainly am not gay. But… Mycroft is interesting. He intrigues me. Maybe I should just give it a chance. If it doesn't work out, I can tell anyone who saw us that it was only a friendly date.

"Fine, I'll do it. I mean, yes, I will go out on a date with you."

Mycroft instantly turned to him and smiled.

"Good. Dinner, tomorrow. I know where you live, so I'll pick you up at 7. Don't forget to wear a dark suit. We're going somewhere fancy." He helped himself up. "Thank you for the tea. Next time, I'd like some milk in it."

As he headed to the door, Greg stood up.

"Will you please not tell anyone?" he asked.

Mycroft did not turn around, but his grin grew wider.

"Of course, as you wish. You are only at the very beginning stages of exploring your gay side."

"I don't think I am g– …" he started, but Mycroft had left before he could finish. "I'm not gay. I'm not… gay…"


	3. Chapter 3 – The First Date (Part 1)

Chapter 3 – The First Date (Part 1)

6.30 PM. Greg was stressing out, unsure whether he should wear his navy-blue suit or his black suit. A 'dark suit' was too vague for him. This was his first date with a man and he had no idea how those types of dates went. Or maybe… Maybe he had to treat it as any other date. Love is equal in all forms and shapes, after all. Right, this date with a man was just like a date with a woman. The only difference was the other person's gender, but that didn't mean he had to think differently about how to dress. Greg went for the navy-blue suit, because he had used his black suit on funerals, and he did not want to bring that vibe with him on the date.

As he buttoned up his white shirt, he looked at himself in the mirror. I look like a homeless person, he thought. Maybe I should shave just a bit. He finished up his shirt, straightening the collar properly, and then quickly shaved his face here and there, but he wouldn't touch his beard too much. Women loved him with a little stubble, and Mycroft would probably too. Wait a minute… Why was he trying so hard to look good for Mycroft?

"I'm not gay," he whispered to his mirror image as he applied some cologne. His hair was fine, the same as ever, but with a little water-based hair gel to keep everything in place neatly. He checked the time. 6.40 PM. "Shit." Mycroft would be there soon. Maybe he was the type of person to come early, or exactly on time, or 'fashionably late'… The latter sounded more like him, but then again, with the position that the man holds, the first option seemed more logical. Greg put on his trousers and jacket and faced the mirror once again. Something was missing. A tie, or maybe a bowtie. He had both in the same colour as his suit, so either would work, but one was probably more appropriate than the other. He chose the bowtie. It looked more playful and it made him seem less like he was going on a business date.

6.50 PM. Greg was pacing around. Why was he so nervous? Why did he try so hard to impress this man? He hadn't found it that important yesterday, so why was it such a big deal now? He wasn't gay; not in the past, not now, not ever. Or maybe he would be, in the future. Maybe he'd turn gay for this man, who had had the guts to ask him out. From a woman's perspective, he could definitely see that Mycroft was hot. From a gay man's perspective… The same. Greg frowned and splashed a little bit of water in his face. After having dried it, he pointed at himself in the mirror.

"Don't be nervous. You're the cool guy, the cool D.I.!" He chuckled at the rhyme, but the smile quickly disappeared when he heard a car. He ran to the window and was relieved to see a black car, and not a cab. And out of the car stepped a man who wasn't Mycroft. And he opened another door, and out came… Mycroft! "The man has a bloody driver?!" Greg hurried to get the last bits of his physique done, his hair had become a little bit wild nonetheless, and he sprinted downstairs, just as the bell rang. Greg didn't think about it and immediately opened the door. Mycroft jumped a little and raised a brow, a smirk lingering on his lips.

"Have… you been waiting at the door?" he asked.

"What?" Greg frowned, but then realised how strange it must have looked from the outside, him instantly pulling the door open just a second after the bell had rang. "Oh! No, no, I was just… eh…"

Mycroft chuckled and stopped him. "I was only kidding, don't worry about it. You look gorgeous tonight."

Greg blushed and stammered more. "Eh, thank you… You, eh, too, My-… Mister…"

"Just Mycroft is fine." Mycroft looked behind him to see that the driver was still standing near the car. Then he turned back to Greg. "I told him that this is a business date. You didn't want anyone to know, right?" He smiled a warm smile, and he was glad to see that Greg managed to relax a little.

"Thank you, that's very kind. Um, would you like to come inside for a moment, or do we just go?"

"Depends on whether you cleaned your home especially for me," Mycroft answered, to which Greg grabbed his coat and put it on.

"Let's go instead then," he said, and both men laughed. A silence fell as they looked at each other.

"What?" asked Mycroft when Greg didn't stop his staring after a moment.

"Oh, eh… Your smile," he said softly, not because he didn't want the driver to hear it, but because he was a little embarrassed to say it at the start of their first date. "It's beautiful."

Mycroft looked down, his smile changed from a happy one to an embarrassed one.

"Why thank you…" he said and looked up at him again. "We… should go now."

"Right, right." Greg pulled the door to a close.

The two walked to the black car and the driver opened a door for them. They climbed in and as soon as the driver was ready, Mycroft gave him the address. Greg recognised it: that place was something he could barely afford with his pay, but he had taken his now ex-wife there once. It had worked like a charm back then.

Mycroft smiled at Greg, and Greg smiled back, but they were silent during the entire ride. The driver stopped right in front of the restaurant and an employee of the restaurant opened the door on Greg's side. He slid out, and before Mycroft got out, he could hear the driver say: "Good luck with business, sir." With Mycroft on his side, they walked into the restaurant, and they were lead to a table in a quiet corner. They sat down and the silence between them suddenly stood out. Greg swallowed thickly and looked around. This was it: his first date with a man. And honestly… He fancied him.


	4. Chapter 4 – The First Date (Part 2)

Chapter 4 – The First Date (Part 2)

"So, Greg…" Mycroft started. "Tell me more about yourself."

Greg looked at the man opposite of him. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. With a smile, he replied to Mycroft.

"You're from the government. I bet you've already looked me up, and I bet there's not much left for me to tell you."

"No, no. I haven't looked up… your hobbies and likes or dislikes."

Greg frowned slightly, but he also had a rather amused grin on his face.

"Did you just dodge–"

"No, please do answer my question. What are your hobbies?"

Greg chuckled. The man was serious, he could certainly tell that, but his embarrassment shined through and Greg found it quite adorable.

"Well, I enjoy reading the newspaper in the morning. I enjoy taking walks. I enjoy my work… now and then."

"Why? What's wrong with your job?" Mycroft leaned in to listen carefully.

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong, really. I'm just not a fan of the paperwork, that's all." He leaned back in a relaxed way, and unknowingly, Mycroft relaxed a little, too.

"I see. I have noticed that you work with my younger brother, and quite often, actually."

Greg nodded and smiled.

"Yes, that's right. What about it?"

Mycroft's eyebrows instantly rose.

"Why?"

"Oh," Greg said, trying to refrain from chuckling. Sherlock was probably no laughing matter to Mycroft. "Because he's good, and we need him from time to time."

Mycroft nodded and raised his hand for a waitress to come over.

"Well, thank you for giving him something to do."

"Not a problem," said Greg with a smile, and he turned his attention to the waitress when she had reached the two.

"How can I help you tonight, sir?" she said, giving them each a friendly smile. Mycroft pointed at the wine menu.

"We'd like a bottle of Chardonnay, please." He looked at Greg for approval. "I thought it would be good if we'd stick with a lighter wine tonight. Business, and all…"

"Yes, you're right. Chardonnay would be perfect." He simply smiled at the waitress and then at the man in front of him. He appreciated Mycroft's efforts to play along, especially for him. The woman left to get the wine, and Mycroft turned to Greg.

"We can do red wine next time," he said with a smile.

"Have you perhaps done this before?" Greg dared to ask, and this, surprisingly enough, made Mycroft chuckle.

"Have I done what before? Going on a date date, pretending that it's a business date on the request of my date partner?" Greg nodded; he meant exactly that. "No. I've only been on a few dates, you see, and all were with women."

"Really? You've been straight? Or bisexual?"

Mycroft shook his head, although he appreciated Greg's curiosity. The date was seemingly going well, although he was hoping for more flirting.

"No, I've always felt the way I do about men. I simply needed to cover it up for my dear old folks."

This made Greg's smile fade.

"Don't they accept it?" he asked.

"Oh, no, they do. I bet they do. But I don't want to go around town, screaming that I'm gay – and dear Lord, I am _gay_ – while not being able to find any other man to go on a date with. I'm not very active in the gay scene, so I have no idea who is actually gay here. You know, from the select group of people that I know and see every now and then."

The conversation fell silent for a moment, as the waitress brought the wine bottle and two glasses. She poured each a sip, and they both tasted the wine and approved it. She then poured them full glasses and set the bottle in a cooler.

"Enjoy. Have you decided on the food yet?"

Mycroft shook his head.

"I apologise. We've been so busy discussing business, that we haven't looked yet. We'll reach a decision soon."

"Of course, that's not a problem, sir. Just call for me when you're ready." She left with a smile, and in the meantime, Greg had thought about Mycroft's explanation.

"But why…" He stopped and frowned.

"Why what? Do continue," Mycroft said, and he took a sip.

"If you're that _gay_, but you're not in the gay scene, then why did you look in the… straight scene?"

Mycroft sniffed amusedly.

"Ah, right. Well, I obviously had to take care of some business by visiting you, and before that, I looked you up, and… Oh my, you were cute. And single, of course. So I figured, why not? Why not try to convince you to go on a date with me? And honestly, you and I can both see that it has worked."

Greg blushed, but Mycroft managed to keep the conversation going, and after a bottle of wine and three lovely courses, the two were heading home.

"I must say that I enjoyed this d–… business talk," Greg said in the car. He and Mycroft exchanged an all-knowing and slightly cheeky smile.

"Me too, and I hope that you are interested in doing more… business with me."

"Of course… Here's my card." Greg gave him his business card, but it only showed his office number. Mycroft didn't quite understand the trick, so Greg flipped it over for him, revealing his handwritten mobile phone number on the back of the card. Mycroft smiled and blushed a little.

"Great, thank you," he said, storing the card in his inside pocket and patting the spot. "I will contact you soon, then."

The car stopped, and Greg was a little sad that it was over. He had had a great time with Mycroft, and he had learned that he kind of fancied him. He wasn't sure if that made him bisexual or gay, but he was sure that he would find that out someday. The driver opened the door.

"Call me, please," he mouthed in a soft whisper, and he got out, thanking the driver. As the car drove off, Mycroft didn't look out the window, probably to keep up the business date story, and thus Greg didn't blame him. Instead, he was thankful. Thankful that this man would accept his ridiculous terms, just to go on this date.

A silent hour later, Greg laid in bed, thinking. He couldn't help but check his phone every minute, hoping for a text message, maybe something by which Mycroft would confirm that he had gotten home safely, and that he had enjoyed the date, and that he would be interested in a second date… but nothing. No text message, no call… Maybe that was just Mycroft being his mysterious self. Greg moved onto his side, put the phone on his bedside table, and closed his eyes. Tomorrow. Surely Mycroft would contact him tomorrow.


End file.
